


The Last Of Our Days

by Rylonn



Category: Ever After High
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Chapters Out Of Chronological Order, Drabbles, Not Written to be Seriously Read, Personal Writing, no canon characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rylonn/pseuds/Rylonn
Summary: A collection of drabbles using Ever After High OCs made by myself and my best friend.These are mostly for personal archiving purposes, although feedback is welcome. The drabbles are likely out of chronological order.





	1. Close To The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> 7th of November
> 
> Justin Bennett and Emmett White

"JUSTIN!"

Justin didn't hear the voice, but they saw Emmett's mouth move. Yelling for them as the railing gave way behind their back. They felt gravity take hold and their mouth let out a scream. They grabbed for anything they could get a hold of. Pain seared through their hand as it gripped the rusted and broken railing. They winced.

Never before had Justin hated being deaf. They had grown up that way... But it was killing them not knowing what was happening on the bridge. They slowly glanced down, the water rushing at impossible speeds meters below. Their breathing sped up and they reached up to grab the edge of the bridge.

They couldn't fall.

On the bridge, Emmett had been distracted by the sight of Justin falling. He had shouted and was already running towards the edge. If there was ever a bad idea, it was turning his back on a zombie. The very same zombie that quickly dug its ragged fingernails into Emmett's shoulder. He cried out, having to take a moment to consciously dispel Justin's safety out his mind. If he died now, then his friend had no chance.

Spinning round, Emmett hit the zombie with the axe he had scavenged. It chopped into its neck and it only took a moment for it to fall dead. Taking deep breaths, he glanced to assess the situation. Three close-by. Then perhaps five or six approaching. He let out a curse. A shout of his name caught his attention - and the zombies'.

Justin was slipping. Their hand gripped the edge of the bridge, while their other hand was still gripping the railing. It slipped, tearing into their skin, leaving a deep gash.

"Emmett! I'm slipping!"

They glanced up, hoping to see the other. Justin hoped the zombies hadn't taken Emmett's life. If their friend was dead, they had no chance. Thankfully the redhead popped over the edge.

"Grab on, I'm going to pull you up." Emmett mouthed, clearly trying not to make a sound. Justin focused on the other's mouth and nodded a little. They let go of the railing and quickly grabbed Emmett's offered hand.

Then they saw it.

"Behind you!"

It was too late though. The zombie had gained distance thanks to the distraction. Emmett felt the pain in his back as the zombie clawed. He fell forward and gravity did the rest. He had a hold of the other but Justin couldn't hold two people's weight. After just a moment, the two were falling towards the water. Justin screamed. Emmett didn't spare another second and clung to his friend before they clashed with the rapid waves.

The zombies simply stood, confused and lost. Their prey was gone with the river.


	2. Campfire Intruders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7th of November
> 
> Chelsea York and Kirk Hamilton

The logs were dumped by the small fire, with a soft huff. Her eyes glanced to her companion who stared at his phone. The pair had been travelling for a little while, just trying to survive. They had chosen to avoid towns when possible. They knew how to survive. They had grown up learning these lessons. They were hoping for help, but no amount of staring at their mobiles would help.

"Kirk, that's not going to help..." Chelsea spoke softly. The two had argued about it already, so she was trying to be careful as she approached the subject. He didn't even give a proper reply, and mumbled in annoyance. She left it at that though and just sighed.

Sitting herself down, she began tending to the campfire, trying to get it to burn a little bigger so they could stay warm through the night. Who knew how long passed. The crack of a stick informed them of something nearby and both dropped what they were doing, jumping to their feet.

Their hands rested on weapons, staring in the direction of the sound. Chelsea glanced at Kirk and found him also looking at her. Without a doubt, tension was in the air. No word was needed and she slowly walked towards the trees. Searching her pocket, she pulled out a flashlight, and flicked the switch.

The light shone on two figures. They were soaking wet and the taller of the two seemed to be unconscious, and bleeding badly. The brunette that was carrying him stared at Chelsea in fear. They looked ready to run, but seemed to be too frozen in fear to do so.

She stood there, glancing to her travelling partner and then back at the two intruders. The shorter one spoke softly, their intonation a little odd, hoarse and pained. "Please... Help him." The look in their eyes was one of begging and neither had the heart to turn the pair away now.


	3. The Farm's Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17th of July
> 
> Quinn O'Kane

The young blond boy stood with his father, staring at the person standing at their door. They knew this person. But they knew not why this person was here. The O'Kanes were not greatly liked, but not hated either. They helped supply the near-by village with vegetables, fruits and assortments of goods from their animals. They were by no means close, but they were still people of the village. So Quinn stood there, staring at the man who had interrupted their breakfast. Normally they would have been pleasant, but considering the amount of blood that was dripping from the man... The father and son could only glance at each other before Quinn ushered the visitor inside. Neither knew what was going on.

Grabbing their first aid supplies, Quinn came running back as his father questioned their guest. Most of his attention was turned to taking care the injuries, but he spared an ear to listen in on the explanation after his father had asked the man what had happened. "They came onto us so quickly. We had just woken up, and someone was shouting about being under attack. But it was too late. Those... those _things_ were already in our village. Please... they need help. I came running here because you two must have weapons, right? Guns to defend the farmland?"

At that, I rose my head, glancing at my dad. Of course we had weapons. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should head for the farm over, and find out if the Gales can help out too, but who knew what situation their village was in. Maybe it'd be too late if they went to ask the Gales. It wouldn't hurt to send a text though, so Quinn noted in the back of his mind to send his farm friend a message later. He focused on bandaging the man's arm. "We do, sir. We can go back with you. I apologise, but I don't seem to know your name." Quinn glanced at his father who seemed to stand and walk towards the closet. They kept their guns locked away, but at close range to the land in case they were needed.

"Ian Reiff. It's Riley and Quinn O'Kane, right?" Their visitor asked in return. Quinn hadn't noticed before that the man had been tense until he felt the other relax through the short conversation. Talking seemed to be helping calm him down. Quinn gave a nod of acknowledgement that Ian was right about their names. He slowly leaned down and began rolling up the other's trouser leg to attend to the wound there. Something had... scratched him? The young boy glanced up at the villager, but said no more.

Instead his father filled the silence that had settled. "We have guns, but I'd rather not have you use one if you aren't trained. We've both been taught. Just a safety thing." Quinn felt the man tense under his hands, but said nothing. He simply cleaned the scratches. He wasn't going to disagree with his father. Guns were dangerous in the wrong hands... both to others and the people using them. He thought it best that this man didn't receive a gun.

"But...!"

"You're still shaken up, Ian. If we give you a gun, it could end badly. We'll keep a spare with us, in case things are as bad as you're saying, but we can't just give you a gun." Quinn quickly explained, straightening up and seeing the blood seeping through Ian's shirt. "You have another wound on your shoulder. Can you remove your shirt so I can wrap it up?" Their guest gave both O'Kanes a worried look, that was bordering on a glare, but Quinn's explanation seemed to have taken the fight out of him. He followed Quinn's instruction, though he seemed to move almost lethargic. The other watched as the shirt was removed, revealing just how bad the wound on the shoulder was. It was messy, and Quinn could see the muscle, and... and was that... bone? Whatever caused that had got Ian good. Quinn made no comment, and instead rolled up a towel, and held it up. "I recommend biting on this. The wound is deep, and cleaning it is going to hurt a lot. I don't really want you biting your tongue." Ian listened, and Riley gently patted Quinn's shoulder. His own form of encouragement. His father could easily do this too, but Quinn was much more proficient at it thanks to his smaller and more nimble hands.

And hurt it did. As Quinn cleaned the wound up, wiping up blood, Ian squirmed, and cried out, and bit heavily into the towel between his teeth. Riley helped keep the arm and shoulder still while Quinn muttered encouragements and wiped up the blood. What had caused the wound, Quinn wasn't sure. But he knew what type of wound it was. It looked like some kind of animal had tried to get a chunk of Ian here.

"All done." Quinn spoke once it was clean. He glanced at Ian who had significantly calmed down, and was staring at the opposite wall with glazed over eyes. The son looked at his father, before speaking up again. "Ian?" No reply. Quinn said nothing more, and instead chose to wrap a bandage round the man's shoulder. It was going to need stitches, but Quinn wasn't confident in his own abilities to do that. They could take Ian to a hospital once they figured out what was going on. At the very least, the other wasn't at risk of death... Or so Quinn thought, when he noticed something had stopped in Ian's chest... His heart had stopped. "Ian? Ian?!" Riley glanced at his son, as Quinn began panicking. Taking a moment, he reached up to Ian's neck. No pulse there. He placed his head on the other's chest next, just to make sure. It was clear that Ian's heart and breathing had both stopped.

Riley moved first, hopping round the couch, and pulling the man onto the floor. His son simply stared at the other two. His thoughts were racing through his mind. The man had seemed fine. He was bleeding a lot, but Quinn had thought he'd be okay. He hadn't shown signs of severe blood loss yet, not so severe that it'd be life-threatening... right? Or was that adrenaline. He didn't know. He could only stare as his father performed CPR. He didn't know when he started crying. He was just suddenly aware of the tears. After a couple of minutes, Riley leaned back on his heels, and looked at his son.

A dead man was now lying on the floor of their house.

Standing up, Riley walked to Quinn and hugged the boy tightly. He pressed a soft kiss to the hair of his son, before backing up. "I know this is hard, but clearly something happened. We need to head for the village." A nod. "Alright, I'm gonna go wash out my mouth, and then we can saddle up. That'll be the quickest way. We can... handle this," He waves a hand at the body of Ian Reiff, "when we get back and figure out what's happening. Do you mind grabbing the rifles?" Quinn nodded again, moving towards the closet to finish pulling out what they'd need. His father left the room to go do what he said.

Quinn was still sobbing, but it was quiet and to himself. His thoughts went to the body that laid on the floor behind him. Someone had just died in their house. He had wrapped up the wounds, but in the end... it hadn't mattered. His hand clenched around the bag of ammo. He sighed, picking up two rifles, and slinging both over his shoulders. He closed the door to the closet, with a slam. He was getting frustrated and upset.

The slam covered the sound of the groan that came from behind him. Quinn's soft sobs covered the quiet footsteps. Slowly a shadow was cast over the door to the closet... a tall shadow of someone standing behind Quinn. He went completely still as whatever stood there let out a growl, and gripped Quinn's top and _pulled_. The boy stumbled back, letting out a shout of surprise, and tried to quickly find his feet. He didn't quite collide with the thing, but spun round to face it within breathing distance. He went silent when he saw Ian standing in front of him.

"Ian?" Quinn asked. He stepped away, his back meeting with the wood of the closet door. He glanced up, studying the other. His eyes were glazed over, and his face seemed to slump a little on one side. Not by much, but something was clearly wrong. Especially when Ian's only response to Quinn's word was another growl and then a lunge. Letting out an involuntary scream, Quinn ducked and jumped to the side, along the wall. Ian collided with the wall, with full force, and slid to the floor. Backing away, Quinn kept his eyes on the other. He had no idea what was going on. Ian's head turned towards him, and the force of the lunge had left him with a nosebleed. And angrier than before. He scrambled to his feet, with little coordination and was making his way quite quickly towards Quinn, who simply shouted at Ian. "Get back! Get away!" The eyes seemed to focus a little on Quinn, but in this eerie, blank way. It scared him. Wasn't this man just dead?

Shouldn't Ian be dead?!

He shifted the rifle quickly, hitting Ian in the side of his jaw as he grabbed Quinn's top. The hit barely moved Ian. He jolted a little from the hit, letting go of the boy, but he recovered within seconds and his hand swiped out at Quinn. Usually, fingernails of Ian's length wouldn't deadly, but the hand moved with so much force that it tore into Quinn's shoulder, leaving deep lines of red, that soon welled up with blood.

"Quinn!" Standing behind him was his father, staring in disbelief at the scene in front of him. His son was being attacked by a man that he had presumed dead. Grabbing his son around his waist, Riley pulled Quinn back from a second attack, and then pushed his boy behind him. "One of the guns, Quinn. Load it." His son stared wide-eyed, but obeyed. The action was quick and practised, and before Ian reached the two, the gun was in Riley's hands and pointed at their attacker. "Last chance, Ian. Back off. If you back off now, we'll let you walk out. Otherwise, I **will** shoot." Ian still approached. Riley clenched his teeth, his finger resting on the trigger, he swiftly dropped its aim, and shot at Ian's leg. It didn't quite take the leg off, but it certainly did damage. Ian collapsed to the ground, letting out a blood-curdling growl. Riley slowly pressed Quinn back, so they could walk off, but all the while, the gun was trained on Ian.

This injury wasn't stopping him though. Letting out something like a scream, the anger was clear. Riley warned the man again, but he had stood up. And ran with reckless abandon. Riley didn't have the heart to pull the trigger, and within a moment, both were on the ground. The rifle was pressed into Ian's face, keeping the biting teeth away from him. Instead, the teeth bit into the gun, actually managing to leave marks from the force being used. Ian's hands were free to claw at Riley, and leave scratches and blood.

With shaking hands, Quinn had swung the second rifle round, and was loading it as fast as he could. He didn't even think as he put all the force he could behind his foot and _shoved_ Ian off his father. The gun was lifted swiftly and aimed at Ian's chest. He muttered an apology, before he fired a shot roughly where the man's heart should be. Quinn's hand shook on the gun, and Riley let out a deep breath.

It should have been over then, but Ian moved towards Riley again. Quinn practically screamed as he re-adjusted his aim and fired at Ian's head. And fired again. He lost count of how many times he fired, but there was blood on the floor, on his father, and all over Ian. The clip was empty, and as Quinn pulled the trigger again, nothing fired. He slowly let his grip go on the rifle, and it fell to the floor with a loud thud. To say he was in shock would be an understatement.

"I killed him..." Quinn spoke quietly. His voice didn't shake, but that wasn't a good thing. It was void of any emotion. As if Quinn was trying to repeat a fact and confirm what had just happened. There was no doubt in his mind what had happened. He had shot the man. The very same man he had bandaged earlier...

"Quinn, son, I don't think that was him." Riley slowly stood up, and glanced at the now... most-definitely dead body of Ian. His son had littered the man with bullets, and he assumed that had been Quinn's fear response to seeing a man come back no problem from being shot in the leg and then the heart. "Go upstairs. Please." Quinn nodded, and simply turned and darted upstairs. Riley watched his boy run, and waited for a moment. It was followed by the slamming of a door, and muffled sobbing. He glanced to the body behind him.

They had to find out what was going on.


	4. Birthday Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16th of July
> 
> Obsidian Tunnel, Opaline Glass, Canary Prince and Philomela Towerbird

The door was slightly ajar, and Philomela was staring to the world outside. She held her bag close to her side, and she was completely silent. She pulled it to as someone went by, before pushing it open once more. Not even two meters away, Opaline was cleaning a shallow cut on Canary's arm. Nothing worrisome, but it was still a cut. Obsidian was sitting beside Opaline and Canary, keeping an eye between those two and Philomela... His hand fiddled with the birthday badge on his blazer. Trapped in the cinema.

How did they get here?

The day had started out well. The four had gotten together in town for Obsidian's birthday. It had been full of joy and happiness. They had all been smiling and giving him presents which he'd put away in his bag. Opaline had planned the day out, asking Canary and Philomela for their input on the day. Obsidian was likely going to spend time with his other friends too. No, his and his girlfriends', Opaline's, parents would have something put together for him when they got home. It was shaping up to be a wonderful day! Who knew it would turn out like this. The four had just finished watching a movie and were on their way out after the credits. Canary was leading the way, fiddling with his camera, getting ready to take photographs of the groups again. He opened the door for them all, and they walked out.

Turning his back to the direction they were heading, he clicked a photograph of the three as they posed for the camera. Opaline encouraged him to find someone else to take a photograph so they could have a photo of all four. Rolling his eyes, he was about to turn around and find someone when he bumped into someone. Apologising, with an embarrassed blush crossing his cheeks, he glanced at the person he'd bumped into. He froze at the person who reached forward. Nails dug into his arm, leaving a shallow cut, and Canary could hear his friends shouting behind him, but he had frozen up. Opaline moved first, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" She shouted at the man, glancing at the blood on her friend's arm. It wasn't too bad, but it left Opaline confused. Obsidian moved beside his girlfriend, placing a hand on her shoulder. It didn't do much, but it helped calm her down a little as she glared at this person. Their face twisted in a snarl and then lunged forward. The lunge never connected though as Philomela and Obsidian both grabbed Opaline quickly. "What...?" She stared at the man who let out a heaving breath. The growl that followed didn't sound human.

"We need to go. Let's go back!" Philomela grabbed Canary's wrist, and watched for her other friends to follow. They moved as swiftly as possible, away from the growling man. Wasting no time, they shut the down to the screen where they had been before. And now...

They were here.

"What is even going on...?" Canary spoke up for the first time since they had hidden. Opaline had been talking to him and Obsidian, while Philomela was informing them what was happening outside the door. He glanced between all of them before frowning. "This is going to sound crazy but..."

"That didn't seem like a human." Opaline finished, already figuring out what his line of thought was. They all bite at their lips for a moment. "I think we're lucky that you didn't get hurt anymore but... we should wait for our parents. Staying in place is probably our best idea right?" She waited for the agreement of all three of her friends. That meant they might be here for a little bit though... "Well, if this is the plan, we should get food. Water. Maybe some blankets in case we need to sleep here." She looked between all of them.

A scream sounded through the door, and Philomela jumped, but opened it up to see if she could spot who had screamed. All colour drained from her as she stared out the gap. Canary would have jumped to her side if it wasn't for Obsidian gripping his arm to stay still. Thankfully Opaline was going to her side. Both girls lost their colour as they watched a woman bite one of the workers at the cinema. They both stared at each other before shutting the door quickly.

"What was that, that woman just bit that other person? What even causes that? Rabies? Can this be rabies? This doesn't seem like rabies though, that person was trying to  _eat_ them, what even causes that?! Cannibalism? Cannibalism plus rabies?" Philomela was muttering under her breath. Her voice dripped with panic and her friend gently rubbed her shoulder. Both boys were staring up at their friend, and then at each other.

"... If we go out, we should take something to defend ourselves." Opaline looked like she was trying not to fall into a panic like Philomela. She had seen the same thing as her. She took a deep breath. "We need to go get stuff when the coast is clear." She winced as she heard sobbing through the door. The worker must not have died, but they sounded like they were in pain. The sounds of shouts and voices through the mall were louder than before, now she was aware what was happening. "... We should probably stay in pairs."

Now the question became who should go out. Canary cleared his throat. "None of those things have checked in here, despite Philo keeping that door open a little. So... maybe two of us who can be quiet?"

"I think Philo and I are the best choice to go for now." Opaline spoke up. She looked to her friend who nodded back. Despite the sight they had seen, both girls looked determined to help the boys. Canary and Obsidian shared a look for a moment, before they offer small smiles.

"Alright." Obsidian spoke up, and approached Opaline. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, before reaching over and squeezing Philomela's hand. "Be careful though. Don't hesitant to come back if you need safety." They both muttered agreements, before glancing out the door. They didn't leave instantly, but waited until the coast was clear. Obsidian remained at the door, while Canary leaned his head back to look at them leave.

His eyes then focused on Obsidian and he gave a small swallow. "You think they'll be safe?"

"Of course."

Minutes passed by as the boys waited. Minutes turned into an hour, and this hour soon started to drag on. The relief that the boys felt as the girls return was enormous and they couldn't help but embrace their friends. While they had returned safely, they both had scratches and cuts; Opaline had a nasty looking one on her jaw, and some blood splattered over her tights. But... they were okay. They had a backpack each, filled with stuff they needed.

The girls were okay. And they had information.

 


End file.
